


Rendezvous

by orphan_account



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Cheating, Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), Hand Jobs, Implied Sanster, Infidelity, M/M, Papster - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 02:03:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9636023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: They really should have stopped, and Papyrus never should have opened his legs in invitation.But no matter how many times they ended it, it always came back to the kitchen counter.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AngeliaDark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeliaDark/gifts).



> From my drabble prompts on Tumblr.

A resounding crash echoed from the kitchen as the glasses on the drying rack on the counter clattered against the floor. Papyrus gasped out in shock, but quickly muffled his spluttering with a gloved hand. Papyrus sat in the flood of water that began to dribble steadily down the edge of the counter, splattering on the hardwood floor in quiet, rhythmic plops. Papyrus watched tantalizingly as Gaster trailed his fingers through the liquid accumulating on the counter before sensually gliding the wet tips down his exposed neckbone, the cool trickle on his heated bones made him shudder in anticipation. Gaster hunkered over Papyrus’ shivering form, weighing down Papyrus on the rough surface of the counter top, trapping his hips against Papyrus’ pelvis, enticing him to spread his tibias lewdly on either side.

They really should have stopped.

What would _Sans_ think!?

But no matter how many times they ended it, it always came back to the kitchen counter.

Papyrus panted wetly through his daze, trying to reign in control through all the chaos, “WE REALLY SHOULD NOT DO THIS ANYMORE.”

A teasing, curious hand rode up his femur, the wet tips sluicing over his bones, wracking him to the core. The water smeared over the dry cracks like a caress, and Papyrus clenched his hands into fists on the counter top to discipline the lecherous sensations. Papyrus huffed out against the side of Gaster’s head, “I DON’T NEED THIS, YOU’RE IN MY HEAD AT THE CRACK OF DAWN—BUT WE CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE!”

Gaster stroked softly on the expanse of Papyrus’ exposed spine, causing him to whine out a meager moan. These fleeting touches, the ones where Gaster would adorn his clavicles with delicate kisses, or whisper sensually against his skull, or graze his fingers lovingly down his ribcage, drugged him to delirium. These touches reminded him of snow—the higher it rose, the deeper it melted into his soul. Would they snuff down these beautiful, butterfly feelings underneath the foul, lingering feelings of sex?

Gaster’s aching crotch felt otherwise; with Papyrus—kind, innocent, _angelic_ , Papyrus—laid out before him like a sweet delicacy, he could not withhold the bubbles of arousal that festered inside him. Gaster limply rested his forehead against Papyrus’, expression erotically glazed over in lust, and he dragged his fingers down Papyrus’ spine to tug at the seams of the flimsy shorts that blocked him from the object of his desire. He so desperately wanted to glimpse at what awaited underneath the blue fabric, throbbing and eager only for him—he snuck a finger in through the elastic—he wanted to see Papyrus breathless for him—he hooked a finger on the waistband, slowly unraveling the shorts down Papyrus’ pelvis, like unwrapping a prized gift—

“—YOU’RE NOT LISTENING TO ME!” Papyrus snatched at his debaucher’s wrist. Papyrus shook his skull angrily against Gaster’s forehead, tears welling up in frustrated titillation, “THIS HAS BEEN GOING ON FOR TOO LONG, ONE DAY WE’LL GET CAUGHT!”

They never should have spoken beyond the usual pleasantries, they never should have invested time in each other’s company, they never should have wanted to get to know each other.

Papyrus came into it all, and Gaster did not expect any of this to happen. All it took was a smile; just one, radiant smile that unhinged him and broke open that empty vault of warmth that Gaster believed was squashed down due to years of unemotional coldness.

But it wasn’t meant to be; Gaster was with Sans, Papyrus’ only known family member that he cherished so close to his soul.

All the while, through the numerous dates and movie nights spent on the couch in the dark living room with the skeleton brothers, Gaster could only reminisce on how the mute light from the television screen sheened off Papyrus’ bones, silhouetting with a heavenly glow; his fingers twitched at his sides to avoid brushing at Papyrus’ leg resting next to his on the couch in the dark. On other occasions, Gaster felt as if his ribcage would collapse into itself whenever Papyrus bounced enthusiastically into a room, or beamed at him while displaying new ingredients to cater while cooking spaghetti, or flash that wide smile that would almost make his soul split in two. More often than not, Gaster found himself always peeking over the top Sans’ skull to ogle at his brother, entirely captivated by Papyrus’ radiance, and drowning out Sans’ usual spiel like white noise.

Gaster loved to experience Papyrus more than his soul could handle, but how could choose between having Sans in his life, or losing Sans because he was longing for and caught feelings for his younger brother? It certainly didn’t help when Papyrus returned Gaster’s smiles with more vigor and enthusiasm than it deemed necessary, or how he blushed whenever Gaster complemented him on a new puzzle he constructed, or the welling of attraction in his bones when Gaster offered advice on how to spice up his spaghetti to the perfect pinch—these qualities served to draw Papyrus in closer to Gaster like a magnet; for someone to be genuinely interested in his endeavors was too good to be true, and before Papyrus even knew it, he had fallen _hard_.

Sans was blissfully unaware of the blossoming tryst between Gaster and Papyrus, so the two indulged in each other in any way they could in secret. But the romantic dream of flower giving, hand holding, and exquisite courting that Papyrus painted elegantly in his mind never left the kitchen counter.

So now here they were, muffling down the amorous, idealistic visions of their love through indulgent, abject sex.

Gaster murmured lowly against Papyrus’ skull, eyes running lazily, somberly down Papyrus’ wanton expression, “You worry too much, Papyrus.”

He kissed Papyrus’ teeth in invitation, and Papyrus found it more and more difficult to hold down his frown. His phalanges shook on the table for leverage and to contain the whimper of desire that threatened to break free. As much as he ached for this, he knew it had to end.

Gaster peppered Papyrus’ skull with kisses that burned in their wake, “Why are you resisting? You and I both know how much you love me.”

Papyrus wrapped his legs around Gaster’s waist, stifling the heat between them until Gaster hissed in arousal through his teeth.

An intense breath rolled out of him, desperate to stave off the excitement that enveloped at his pelvis, “THAT DOESN’T MATTER, SANS WILL FIND OUT!” Through the sweat flittering on his skull, Papyrus turned his head away, anger drying up his tears, “…AND ITS NOT LOVE, YOU KNOW THAT…,” Papyrus gripped Gaster’s hand in his own and brought it down to cup at his pubic bone, “…ITS THIS.”

Betrayal curled hard and heavy in Gaster’s face, momentarily breaking from the intoxicating spell of lust, “What do know about love, Papyrus?”

Papyrus knew a great deal about love; he loved Sans of course, and because of that fact, he knew this could not go on any longer.

“What we have—what this is—is _love_ ,” Gaster growled out vehemently. “And I will show you that before the night ends.”

Gaster slipped his tongue between Papyrus’ teeth, filling up him up with hunger. Papyrus’ attempts to break loose were futile and weak; he pushed softly against Gaster’s chest, clasped feebly at the arms encaging him, and yelped wetly when Gaster’s tongue glided under his—all proving that he dreamt of this love-making every night. If he really didn’t want this, then why could he not muster up the strength to refuse Gaster’s seductive advances? Papyrus submitted to his demise, and sighed into Gaster’s mouth devouring him in revelry.

Gaster tugged down his shorts past his femurs, and Papyrus pressed a fist to his jaw like a virginal school girl, skull damp and feverishly glazed in passion. He spread his legs apart to beckon Gaster with his innocence, whimpering for this to continue, forgetting the cause he was fighting for.

Gaster pushed his hips flush against Papyrus’ groin, feeling the heat rise up to his soul. He caressed Papyrus’ spine, loving over every dip and slope of his pearly, white bones, until Papyrus keened out in desperation. There was no use fighting it now; resistance was lost.

But the clock was ticking—they did not have much time; Sans would be home from work at any minute.

Papyrus was breathless.

These on and off moments of secrecy had turned into a shared drug between two addicts that needed their fix. Their exploits were everything but true, undying love, but their souls reflected their bodies; they enjoyed physically exploring the essence of each other in all intervals. Gaster rested his hand on Papyrus’ sternum, relishing the sharp pulses from Papyrus’ soul that pounded in anticipation under his palm.

Papyrus was truly beautiful.

So remarkable.

So dazzling yet delicate under his safe, caring touch.

Gaster loved innocent things—exquisite, demure, and tender things—that trembled beneath his touch, like fragile glass threatening to shatter under pressure. Gaster was not a creature made from these flurry, dreamy attributes; he was left to drown in his own darkness and cold essence. He had always been attracted to light because of his haunting background and disturbing creations—he can recall to precise memory and explicit detail of how it feels to have the dust of fallen monsters slip through his fingers like soft sand, and how the vials of red DETERMINATION would stain his gloves, drenching the white to dark copper, and cling to him like cold glue.

With his other, unattended hand, Gaster stroked the back of his hand down Papyrus’ heated cheekbone, marveling the smooth ivory that was graced and laid out enticingly before him. Papyrus sighed in contentment and curled endearingly under Gaster’s gentle touch. Eye sockets glistening and brimming wet, Papyrus guided Gaster’s hand to his teeth, kissing the knuckles with delicacy and watching Gaster’s intense, enrapturing stare in titillation.

Gaster based all his fantasies on Papyrus’ virtuous nature; his intense strive to prove his worth, his devotions to his family and friends, his fighting spirit, his dedicated commitments, his loneliness, his self-doubts, all of this was in stark contradiction to Gaster’s woeful existence.

Light had become his beloved. He wanted to bask in that radiance, and soak it up to make it his own.

Maybe that was why Gaster was so attracted to Papyrus’ kindred soul.

He could not reciprocate and recreate these heavenly feelings when he was with Sans. He just couldn’t find it in himself to, not after finding Papyrus.

How terrible would it be fall in love because they were both broken? To marry their sorrows? To drown in each other’s misery and darkness and indulge under the reeking gravitation of their intimacy? He periodically recited these questions to himself amidst Sans’ presence, questioning how their relationship was teetering on the sharp edge of collapse.

Gaster’s expression hardened. No, it could not be helped.

Papyrus’ diminutive sighs of relaxation were addicting; his little, precious doll was whimpering in ecstasy, bones rattling in tandem to the pace of his pounding soul. Gaster massaged tenderly at Papyrus’ pelvic bone, stimulating and enticing for his magic to take shape in desperation. A brink of sweat raced down Papyrus’ mandible, and Gaster leaned his body forward on the counter top to rain kisses down Papyrus’ neck and clavicles, watching the skeleton’s lustful expression through lidded eyes, calculating his hot spots. Papyrus could feel his body lock in a single contraction as his magic coalesced on Gaster’s command, throbbing and stiff. A quiet tear welled in his eye socket as he released a lazy moan.

Papyrus didn’t mean for any of this to happen…all of this with Gaster—and now with his brother—it was just an accident. He didn’t mean to fall into this debased form of love. But he was _engulfed_ in it. Papyrus stared into Gaster passion-glazed eyes, in joy and in disbelief.

He had destroyed Sans’ respect for him, shattered their trust in each other, right here in their own home. Papyrus never should have opened his legs in invitation, but tonight, neither of them seemed to care. Papyrus believed that Gaster was using him to curb his own repressions, but whichever way they used each other, whichever way he fell in love, Gaster gave him those moments of blissful ecstasy, of climax. Papyrus chased after those fleeting feelings—he felt liberated, pursued, and wanted—in Gaster’s embrace. Gaster did not treat Papyrus as an opposite, but Gaster gave Papyrus suffocating devotion as a side-effect of his trauma in the past. It was a refreshing, stalwart administration that Gaster brought to his life to pine and obsess over.

Gaster squeezed his arms around Papyrus’ body, but their gazes never severed. Foolishness seduced them into thinking they could tip toe around the consequences, but when Gaster lowered his hand on Papyrus’ conjured erection to give one hearty stroke that milked out a bead of pre-cum, Papyrus’ mind wrangled everywhere and nowhere, trying to find his consciousness through the all the musky heat between them.

Papyrus blubbered as Gaster’s slow, sensual pumps on his cock kept a steady rhythm, and he scrambled to throw his arms around Gaster’s shoulders for leverage. Papyrus whispered against Gaster’s head in a desperate huff, “HURRY, PLEASE. HURRY BEFORE SANS COMES IN!”

A finger teasing over the head of his erection—smearing the sticky sap in heated dribbles along the tip—nearly had Papyrus bawling.

Gaster only chuckled in reprimand, watching Papyrus yearn for him, “Now, now, just relax. You will get what’s coming to you,” His tone was playfully smooth and erotic.

Papyrus was just too cute and delightful, bones drenched in feverish heat and voice cracking from the pleasure. He wanted to savor this moment, oblivious to how dangerous and dire their situation was.

Papyrus stifled his wanton moans by burying his skull into the crook of Gaster’s neck, pelvis thrusting to meet with the measured strokes that gradually began to pick up speed. Papyrus threw his head back in luscious delirium as he felt his orgasm bubble, threatening to burst at the seams. He gasped and panted, but pressed his skull against Gaster’s forehead to place frantic kisses on Gaster’s mouth, tongue slipping from his teeth to devour his debaucher’s mouth whole. Their tongues twisted and curled in battle, and Gaster watched contently as a smile broke across Papyrus face, a smile that reflected of anything but lust or regret. Papyrus hiccupped through his tears, the pressure was building and building to that precipice that would take him over the euphoric edge.

Papyrus’ voice was strained as he broke away from their kiss, tongue lolling from his maw, “YES, PLEASE. DON’T STOP, PLEASE DON’T STOP!”

His caresses on Papyrus’ cock became frenzied in urgent anticipation, eliciting the skeleton to cry out heated huffs of breath that washed over his mouth, “You’re doing so well, my sweet Papyrus.”

Gaster stroked roughly from the base to the tip, wanting to milk out all Papyrus had to offer him in spurts. Papyrus was trembling on the counter’s edge, the heat welling from his groin to his head. He had to hurry now, they had already wasted too much precious time. Papyrus’ cock twitched in his hand, signaling his imminent release, “Go on, cum for me.”

A grunt declared his release, and slow, steady streams of magic erupted from his cock, spurting on his spine and littering the counter under him in thick droplets. Papyrus hummed in warmth and happiness; a lazy, candid smile twitched at the corners of his jaw as his breaths died down from their splendor.

But the fear in him suctioned when he heard the deadbolt of the front door unlock.

**Author's Note:**

> I purposefully left this open-ended so that anyone could use their imagination on what happens next ;)
> 
>  


End file.
